No Time to Cry (Nine While Nine Legacy Book 1)

by Stasia Morineaux

  “I don’t understand.” I say that way too often these days. I used to understand pretty much everything in my life…not these days. I feel all spinny-headed again, just like at the café, just like before I fell into Gideon’s arms that night—when I heard that language for the very first time.

  I can hear some of them speaking in the distance. It is that language, so similar to what Gideon, all of the Bháis speak, but more, it’s more, it’s older, ancient. It feels ancient and I can feel its pull, its power, in my bones and blood. And it feels like home. I feel tears on my cheeks. I reach up surprised by them. I look at Uldwynah, taken aback by this reaction.

  “Oh, Lómhara, it is home.”

  The dizziness takes me.

  When I come to, I’m at Elysium, back in my jeans and Henley thermal T—bummer…I really wanted that outfit from the woods. I’m in my second favorite room, not Gideon’s room, but a public room towards the back of the repurposed house.

  I’m by myself, reading a book. I don’t recall picking it from the nearby shelf, but nevertheless, here I sit reading it, reclined quite comfortably on a vintage ‘30s sofa of faded burgundy. I flip the book over to see the title—it shifts. The words, the letters move. I can’t understand them. First it reads, Taisteal ar an Alfar, then settles on Bronntanas do Beira, before shifting back to the former.

  I write them both down in my notebook on a fresh page, to try to research later. I tear it from my notebook and stuff it in my jacket pocket.

  I watch the rain pattering down through the trees outside the bay window. The couch faces it directly, leaving my back to the rest of the room, which still remains devoid of any other patrons. I find it strange that such a lovely and inviting room is empty on such a busy night.

  “Milseachd.” His voice purrs into my ear. I had not heard him come into the room.

  Gideon.

  He puts a hand under my chin and tilts my head back to look at up at him. Oh, to just look at him. My head rests on the couch back, he leans over; his closeness makes me crazy, makes my heart race like crazy. His eyes, those amazingly deepest of blue eyes, move from mine and lock on my lips. The heat in his eyes intensifies, makes my breath catch.

  “I missed you,” He rumbles softly as he covers my mouth with his.

  ~ Chapter Twenty-Five ~

  As soon as the coffeemaker stopped its chugging and sputtering I poured a much needed, huge mug and settled at the dining table with my laptop.

  Last night had been rough. And strange. Yet oddly liberating. After a night like that I was so glad, so thankful, to have the entire day off.

  No culling, no Liam.

  When I’d first woken up I’d found a fresh five dollar bill and a scrap of paper with the words Taisteal ar an Alfar and Bronntanas do Beira scrawled on it. To say I had been freaked out was putting it lightly.

  And my lips missed Gideon.

  Who was Uldwynah? How did those items get next to my bed? What had she meant about ‘my legacy’?

  I spent the whole day pondering those dreams, and online searching to find the meaning of those words I’d heard, and the words I’d written down. It was time for some serious Googling. Time to see what answers the internet might offer up. The sites I found and the information they offered did little to satisfy my needs, without the proper spelling, it was absolutely impossible. Even with the two sets of words I had been able to write down, I only managed to find something about ancient Norse and Elves. Nothing that could help.

  When I finally gave up on the research, I put the strange night to good use and wrote about it. I typed a couple of new chapters over the course of the day, and did some editing. Liam would be so pleased. Not.

  It was selling pretty well for being new and me a ‘new author’. I had a few reviews already and the readers couldn’t wait for the next installment. They were even asking if it would be issued in print anytime soon. Maybe I would.

  I tried calling Serena a few times throughout the day, but she wasn’t around. She had not come in to work, Carla had informed me.

  Should I presume that she had gone home with Liam? If so, was she still with him? I cared even less today than last night, since the dreams. I think they may have freed me from my feelings for Liam…not that it left me with anything. Just because ‘dream’ Gideon missed me and kissed me…meant nothing in real life.

  When dinner time rolled around, I was way past tired of being cooped up in my apartment. I’d been pacing, talking to myself. Sadly, pathetically, fantasizing about Gideon; about the dreams, his kisses, his voice.

  I had to get out.

  I held my cup and plate balanced carefully in one hand

  and tried the door knob. Locked. No one was in the Bháis room. I casually wandered to the back room, my other favorite room.

  It was unused, clear of people. I felt my head whirl inside, in that déjà vu kind of way. My favorite room. No patrons. My preferred couch available, the one that faces the bay window. The window with the trees, that rain was currently beating down through. Just like the dream. If only! I felt a shiver take a tour up my spin.

  I settled into the softly worn cushions of the retro sofa, feet propped on the coffee table, and opened my notebook on my lap to write. I wrote while I nibbled. Got a refill on my coffee after a while.

  The night was wearing away and still no one came to this particular room. It was almost as lonely as being at home, but at least I had the comfort of having far off voices and activity in the main room to alleviate some of the absolute silence. I had still not heard from either Liam or Serena.

  “Draghail.” I heard him say as he entered the room behind me. Gideon.

  Oh, to hear his voice…in real time, not dream time. My heart did a little leap, breath caught, and I couldn’t help but smile. For a moment, just the ever-so-slightest moment, I dared to hope he’d ease my head backwards, but he walked around the couch and sat in the chair to my right instead.

  “I hear you’ve been busy.” He crossed his legs, steepled his fingers under his chin.

  I hoped I still looked as good as when I’d left my apartment. When had this happened? How had this happened? Gideon. Why Gideon? I felt incensed.

  “Of course I’ve been busy. It’s been a couple of weeks.” I pointed out to him.

  “Michael tells me your culls have been surpassing perfection.” He looked too serious.

  “I suppose.” I shrugged. I was well aware that I was doing it differently, that something had happened, changed in me, causing me to perform differently. But I was better, more efficient. As if I’d been born to it. Not died to it.

  “Let me preface with I’m not here to argue with you—”

  “But…?” I cut him short. It had sounded like it would be followed by a ‘but’.

  “But…” He gave me a sharp look. “I’ve heard you’ve been writing again. And publishing online. Interesting topic.”

  He did not sound interested. In fact quite the opposite. His eyes glowered, his jaw clenched ever so slightly. A big one was coming. “Gideon...” It was late, I was tired. And I didn’t want to fight with him, and I imagined this could be a real torrential one if I wasn’t cautious.

  I also found myself not wanting to disappoint him. Did I dare show him the necklace, tell him about the dreams. He knew I was writing. He’d read it? How much? Or had Liam perhaps only told him about it? Couldn’t take the chance, diversionary tactic was the solution.

  I’d reached over to the arm of the couch while he’d been talking, had dug into my coat pocket and now clutched the pendant in my hand. It was warm, yet cool and soothing, the same as the water of the Draíochta ar Linn. Without further thought to deter me I went ahead and said, “Will you put this on me?”

  I dangled the necklace from my fingers for him to see. I knew it would garner a reaction so intense that the topic of my writing would be shoved quickly to the back burner, along with my new culling expertise.

  He leaned forward to see what I held, and froze. His eyes wide
ned then narrowed. They traveled from the pendant to my face and back again.

  He opened his mouth to speak, then clamped it shut, his lips tightened, thinned. His face turned ashen. Even like this he was darkly, forcefully attractive.

  I wanted to tell him everything. Where I’d been. What? Where I’d been? I mean, about the dreams. No. Not just dreams. I didn’t believe that anymore, that they were all merely dreams. She said he would have the answers. When he came back he’d have the answers I needed.

  “Where did you get that?” He was solemn, serious. Still so very still and pale. Not just lacking in motion, but as though every cell in his body was on pause.

  “The woman in the dream, Uldwynah.” I watched him closely for his reaction. “She gave me this when I first met her. The next time I saw her, I managed to turn a leaf into a five spot. And she told me about a Legacy…the Nine While Nine. She called it something else too, but I’m not very good at pronouncing it.”

  His eyes flared, with a look of anticipation at first, but that quickly morphed to one of concern.

  “I have so many, too many questions. I need the answers.” I skirted the topic at hand. “I need help understanding what’s happening. It’s not…it’s nowhere near as simple as you laid out for me. There’s something more happening. And I need you…”

  I need you

  “…to tell me what it’s all about. No more looks between you and Liam like you’re…holding back information from me, or that you don’t know what to make of me. Like I’m…I don’t know.” I fell back into the couch exasperated. I was grasping for the right words. And at the same time the words from the dream were pounding through my skull. Naoi Cé Naoi Oidhreacht…Draíochta ar Linn… Réimse Eile.

  “Oh, and I saw a book, there were words on it, Bronntanas do Beira and Taisteal ar an Alfar.” I handed him the scrap of paper, from the dream. I’m sure I butchered the pronunciation, but I did my best. “Oh, and another night, there was this beautiful pool, surrounded by trees that just burned with color, and the stones in the water—oh, the water actually glittered—but the stones, they looked so much like this one, and—”

  “I need to get you home.” He stood. “Gather your things please.” He reached for my hand, pulled me up from the couch.

  It was for the best that he interrupted and I went no further, the next part of the dream had been him, he was there, smoldering with want for me, burning as brightly in his eyes as the trees were aflame with color. Then there had been the wings...

  “She said you should put this on me. That you should be the one to clasp it.” He tugged me to the exit as he pulled the necklace from my hand and pocketed it. “Hey,” I protested, but my hand in his felt especially good tonight, so I didn’t fight it at all. “She gave that to me. It was made for me.”

  “When?” he growled.

  “Couple of weeks ago, right after you disappeared.” I had to get that jab in.

  We stopped on the sidewalk near his car. My hand was still clutched in his warm and strong one.

  “Where were you, really?” He kept his voice low.

  I smiled. He’d love this part.

  “In a dream. It was an ethereal place…otherworldly…beautiful could never be a good enough word. A giant tree at the edge of a forest. A house was built into it, into the side of the actual tree, Gideon. I only went up top, to the roof portion, I didn’t get to see inside, but the roof took my breath away. The view, the things she had, the way it was carved into the flesh of the tree and yet the tree thrived as if the house itself had grown there, just always been there.” He just stared at me. “I’m not kidding. I know how it sounds…but she did in fact give that,” I gestured at his pocket that held my pendant, “to me…in the dream. A dream Gideon.” I cocked my hip to one side and placed my hand on it. “So, how did it end up in my pocket? Can you tell me that? My mind’s pretty open to possibilities lately. But I’ve never brought anything back from dreams.”

  He said nothing, placed me in the black leather passenger seat and said not a word on the drive to my apartment. I didn’t needle him any further, let him stew on all that for a bit. Besides, something in the set of his body, his face, kept me from saying anymore as well. He caught me studying his face a couple of times, turned to me, but still no words.

  But that look set my heart racing.

  As we walked through my courtyard his silence was ongoing.

  “Gideon?” He turned to me. “Have you ever seen such a huge cat?” I think I caught him off guard with the question because it had nothing to do with anything. He looked startled, pleasantly surprised. I think I almost saw a smile crack.

  His eyes moved to where I was looking. The big ol’ Tom cat, the fellow I’d dubbed Brom Tom, that extremely—actually, oddly large—scruffy-tough looking, dark ginger tabby, was sitting in the garden directly beneath my window. I’d seen him on several occasions now, sometimes in places that were rather surprising. I’d seen him near the pub that Serena and I frequented, as well as the Snug, and at various places around the neighborhood. I’d seen him outwardly following me on two separate culls.

  “Actually, I have.” He astonished me with that answer.

  “Seriously?” I asked as he ushered me through my front door.

  And that was that. No further explanation. Come on, I point out a cat that is roughly the size of a bob cat and that’s all I get? Gideon was reaching a new height of omission. He hadn’t even bothered to say I was insane…about anything I’d said tonight. Not about the woman, the necklace, the dreams, the book, not even the cat. At the least I’d expected him to accuse me of a practical joke. Instead he’d simply locked me in and said he’d see me tomorrow. Not so much as a lecture about my writing.

  I’d never seen him quite so drained of color and wordless though, so I guess that was a reaction of some degree. Had I gone too far? Said too much? Shit! I knew I shouldn’t have said anything about the dreams. I should have kept the necklace to myself too. Well, at least he didn’t know of the tattoo. I imagine he’d really pop a vein over that news.

  Speaking of, I never had found out why Liam was so distressed over it. Serena had interrupted before he answered.

  He’d known the symbol. Did I dare try to talk to him about it? Would he even tell me?

  I paced the living room lost in questions yet again, lost in thoughts, mired in memories, both real and dreamed, until finally with an exhausted brain I flopped onto the couch and fell asleep.

  ~ Chapter Twenty-Six ~

  I didn’t wake until late in the afternoon. A rare thing for me. Extremely. Even after our crazy rooftop parties that lasted until nearly dawn, I’d only ever managed to sleep until noon, or there about, at the latest.

  There was a text notification flashing on my phone, Serena had messaged me that they were meeting up for dinner at Metaphor, the restaurant attached to Allegory at eight sharp, and then hopping next door to dance the night away. Now, that sounded like a fun night!

  I could hear the coffee maker and its telltale sign of being done brewing, the familiar sputter and gurgle. The room was fragrant with the lovely aroma of a blissfully dark French Roast…and I sat up so quickly I nearly fell off the couch. I shoved aside the cable knit blanket and peered over the back of my couch and into the kitchen. No one was there.

  “Gideon?” I called out warily, like one of those stupid girls in a slasher film. No answer. Had he let himself back in while I was sleeping and made the coffee for me? Or Liam maybe? But, no, the coffee maker was just finishing brewing…how would they have even guessed how to time that? How late I might sleep in? If it was morning maybe, but it was far past. Then who?

  Gods, things were weird.

  “Liam?” I could see from my position that the front door was still locked. I got up and searched the entire apartment, with caution, twice.

  No one was there.

  “Can my life get any stranger?” I asked the room as I poured a mug of liquid wonder and happiness.

  Meow…<
br />
  The mug stopped mid rise on its way to my mouth.

  Meow…

  I looked down at the sound that had emanated from that direction. A cat. Not just any at, but the one from the courtyard. Brom Tom.

  “What?” I stammered. “How…” I looked at the windows. They were closed…like he could have scaled two floors up anyway. “How did you get in here mister?” See. Bizarre. “Things can get stranger. Thank you for pointing that out Mr. Tom.”

  I could find no reasoning as to how he had wound up in my place. He must have snuck in behind us last night. Or perhaps with Gideon, when he came in to make coffee at some point this afternoon. Logical explanations. And you know how logical my life was these days. But it would have to suffice. For now.

  I needed to shower and get ready for dinner.

  Gideon was back.

  I felt a thrill dance through me.

  “I didn’t hear back from you, I thought you were mad at me, for dancing with Liam. He told me there was nothing going on between you. Please, tell me that is true. I really, really like him.” Serena pounced on me as soon as she saw me approaching the table.

  I looked past her as she hugged me, Jeremy wasn’t at the table, as I’d expected when she said ‘we’…it was Liam. I swear I almost turned right back around and left, I was very tempted. But the way she hugged me, I knew that wasn’t an option. I’d just have to suck it up. She was my friend and it’s not like anything was ever going to happen between Liam and me again.

  Ever.

  I sighed and gave her a warm grin. “No, there’s nothing going on with us.” I assured her. I pulled from her embrace and walked to the table.

  “Hey there.” I smiled at Liam.

  He sheepishly smiled back at me. “Hi.”

  I was blank for words. Very awkward. It was obvious by Serena’s greeting, and his slight show of discomfort, that something had indeed happened between them. I felt a small uncomfortable stitch in my heart, but thankfully it passed quickly. This should prove to be an interesting dinner.